The Only Word
by PyroTheWereCat
Summary: Alternate ending where Adam lives but only just. He hasn't spoken since he screamed himself hoarse in the bathroom. The only word that escapes him is the name of the man who spared his life. What will happen now he knows Lawrence is alive? Hints of slash.
1. The Only Word

_A/N: My first Saw fanfic. Tell me if you want to read more and I will write it._

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The detective stares at me, distrusting, like I put myself into the situation that nearly cost me my life. He asks again,

"What happened in there? How did you survive?"

.

The door slid shut and I was blind. But still I screamed. I screamed until my lungs were worn out and my throat was drier than sand. I screamed until my voice gave out and I could only lay on top of Zepp's corpse, exhausted and hopeless. I was going to die and no one could save me. Lawrence had either bled out or Jigsaw caught up with him. I didn't know which was worse. I don't know how long I lay there, bleeding, sobbing, choking on my own spit. I wondered as I lay, Zepp's body slowly getting colder and stiffer, how long would it take for me to die? I knew I wouldn't be able to kill myself; I just didn't have the willpower. I was weak and I knew it. And Lawrence...Lawrence was so strong, so dedicated to saving his family. But he wasn't strong enough to kill me. I wondered why he hadn't killed me, why he shot me in the shoulder instead of the head or anywhere else vital. I was nothing to him. I was the guy who followed him and took photo evidence of his infidelity. Why would he want to save me? Leaving without stemming his own bleeding...risking his life...for me...for both of us. Why did he do that?

"Lawrence..." I often moaned, my voice pitifully feeble. That was one of the three things I did most often in the time following my abandonment. The other two included crying and sleeping. I don't know how I could keep crying...I thought my eyes would have dried up by now. But the tears came anyway, wet and plentiful. Some of the only things I knew in that blackness were wet and cold. But even as I forgot how to think, how to move, how to speak...I still called his name, seeing him before me, a brave smile on that pale face...I knew he wouldn't make it. I knew he only told me he'd bring back help to ease my pain. But as time dragged on in the darkness and my shoulder began to itch and ache with infection I knew the pain was only growing. And it would keep on growing until I became numb and stupid, an inch from death.

Towards the end I didn't care. I didn't care I was going to die any moment from either infection or hunger. I just wanted one last time with the man who spared my life. I wanted his palm on my cheek once more whispering consolations even if they weren't true. I wanted my own hands in his shirt, his sweat-matted blond hair, this time for longer. I had forgotten all other sensations apart from the cold...and his touch. So I knew in that moment when light spilled into the room, washing over me and blinding me with its brightness I had also forgotten, I was dead. There were footsteps and voices but I could not respond to them. I sat slumped in the corner, numb, lifeless, thinking of just one thing...

"Lawrence..." I breathed, my voice hoarse and virtually useless...my final word, final breath, final thought...and then I died.

.

"Adam." I look up. The detective is still staring at me, waiting for my answer. My mouth opens but no sound comes out. I don't like speaking anymore. Even if I did it's become difficult. Ever since the bathroom I've had difficulty with everyday things I used to take for granted.

"Lawrence..." my shell of a voice croaks, the only thing I've been able to say clearly since the light was stolen from my world that day.

"Who's Lawrence?" I glare at the detective. How could he not know who Lawrence was? How could he not know the wonderful, flawed yet perfect man who tried to help me? How dare he not know!

"I think he means Dr. Lawrence Gordon," the attendant answers for me, "You know, the one your partner spoke to last week?" Hope flares inside me for what seems like the first time in a hundred years. I turn to the attendant, a young fresh-out-of-college nursing student with long blonde hair in a ponytail and a kind face.

"He's alive?" I ask, the first words apart from my friend's name I've spoken in a long time. The girl seems shocked too. At a loss for words for a minute or so, she nods fervently.

"Y-yes! Dr. Gordon was the one who told the police about you first." I stand, facing her.

"Where is he? Can I see him?" The detective behind me clears his throat.

"Not until we're finished here," he says angrily, "Now sit down and tell me what happened in-between the time Dr. Gordon left and the time the police found you." I look back at the man briefly.

"The door locked behind him," I explained, "I was trapped. Did you expect me to tell you unicorns rose up from Zepp's body to help keep me alive? Now, I'm sorry, detective, but I want to meet the guy who saved me." The words flowed from me so easily now. Is this what hope does to you? I follow the attendant back to her car and to the hospital, entirely in a fog. The whole time I keep wondering what the _hell_ am I going to say to him? A simple thank you just wouldn't reflect my gratitude and adoration for the man.

"Well, Mr. Faulkner, here you go," the attendant says, "I'll leave you alone but call if you need me, okay?" I nod with excitement. She opens the door and I step in. Once again the only word I am able to say is,

"Lawrence..."


	2. Reunion

"Oh my god..." Lawrence says, shock that is somehow relieved etched into his no longer ghostly white face, "Adam...How did you-When did you..." Probably the look on my face shuts him up. I haven't seen my own appearance since before the bathroom but I'd guess it's nothing pretty right now. My eyes pass over him, taking him in, recovered...physically at least. I suppress a shudder at the absence of his right foot. Though his grey sweatpants cover the stump I can still remember what it looked like when the wound was fresh. Lawrence shifts on the bed so he is sitting on the edge. He leans forward slightly, as if to get up, his left hand aimed toward the crutches propped against the sickening off-white of the ward's wall. I won't let him come to me. I force my feet to move though my entire body feels like it's full of gelatin. Like learning to walk as a child I slowly move towards him, my hands clenched into trembling fists. Why is it when something disturbing happens, good or bad, the world seems to slow and your heartbeat becomes the only sound you hear? I will never understand that. But as soon as you make it to wherever you're going, time speeds up faster and everything is suddenly louder. If only for a moment. When I reach Lawrence I have to stop a moment to make sure I'm still breathing. They don't tell you in these situations you forget to breathe. I close my eyes, still desperately confused. I feel his palm on my cheek and it's the same as I remember, warmer though.

"Adam." How I've longed for that voice to say my name...in that gentle, cautious tone...I open my eyes to the real world for the second time...and collapse onto Lawrence. My arms wrap tightly around his neck, not even causing a flinch at the pain in my still-healing shoulder. And I hold this position, sobbing into his shirt, hardly knowing what I'm doing. I feel his arms close around me, one hand on my back and the other...God, is it doing something right...the other is on the back of my head, stroking my hair in a comforting way not even a mother could master. He is initially surprised but soon realizes my condition (what it is exactly, I don't even know) and begins whispering to me. I can only make out a few phrases and for all I'm concerned, those are the only ones that matter.

"It's okay...I'm here..." Repeated over and over as I cry on his shoulder like a child. If this is a dream or a hallucination brought on by hunger and solitude...if I'm still chained up in that bathroom...I don't want to wake up. I don't want to open my eyes to darkness again. The feel of Lawrence's hands is intoxicating...I have gone too long without human contact like this. Even after the tears run out and I am heaving for breath I still cling to him. I am terrified. I think he knows this.

"Lawrence," I whimper, and at any other time I would feel ashamed of how pathetic I sound, "Lawrence, I'm scared."

"What are you afraid of?" he asks soothingly, falling into his role as doctor.

"Waking up...and finding out this isn't real." Lawrence brings his hands to my face and pulls it upward.

"Adam, look at me," he says, "Open your eyes." Slowly, uncertain, I do as I'm told. His light eyes are serious and stern yet so very concerned. _Why?_ "You're really here. I wouldn't lie to you." He touches his forehead to mine and smiles reassuringly. "See?" I close my eyes once more, absorbing it all. _God..._

"Lawrence," I begin, breaking the pleasant silence, "How long has it been since then?" My companion stiffens; the question seems to be a sore spot. Hesitating in what seems a beat too long he responds,

"I-I really can't say. As soon as I came to in the hospital I told them about you...and then Alison, my wife, mentioned Zepp had the camera feed to the bathroom in our house. But that was...almost four weeks ago...They never told me when you got here." My blood runs cold. I pull back, confusion creasing my brow. _Four weeks?_

"That's impossible..." Lawrence looks away, deep in thought as well.

"The body can't survive long without nourishment..." he mutters, "Maybe a week without food in your state and a few days without water...And I'm sure your shoulder was infected."

"The tap for the bathtub ran for a little while but went dry pretty soon," I point out, hoping to help his thoughts.

"So you had water for a short time...I'd say you'd only last about two weeks at best, what with your shoulder and you probably had given up after while, am I right?" I nod. _Not long after._ I turn around, ready to leave.

"I-I have to go," I say shakily, "I'll be back." I hardly take one step towards the door when something Lawrence says makes me hesitate.

"Adam," he calls, "You know you're just coming out of shock. Everything will make sense soon. I promise." I inwardly shake myself and move on.

"I hope you're right," I mumble, pushing the door open to meet with the one person who's been with me this whole time...the attendant.


	3. Someone Angry

_Thanks for reading so far! No Larry-san in this chapter. Just more OC development. Hey, if you like my style and luuuurve Saw, I would like to request you join my roleplay. I need three more players. Link to thread: _h ttp :// role-playe r. net/ foru m/sho wthrea d. php?t =2636 (minus spaces)

* * *

The attendant's eyes meet mine and she knows..._How does she know me this well? _She gently takes me by the shoulders and steers me away from Lawrence's room.

"So did everything go well?" she asks loudly, obviously for show, "Why don't you tell me all about it later?" As expected, no one pays us any attention. The girl brings me to the room I have been confined to during my recovery and closes the door tightly behind us. She becomes more serious, folding her arms across her chest.

"What's wrong? I know you're not catatonic anymore so talk to me." I must admit I am surprised by her sudden change in demeanor. But not too surprised to respond.

"I need to know how long I was...gone. And how long I was trapped in that shithole." The attendant studies me, her greenish blue eyes sharp as knives.

"They assigned me to you the day after they brought you in and fixed up your shoulder," she began, "That was about two weeks ago." That cold feeling fills me once again. _Two weeks...Two weeks in that horrible place..._I begin to feel lightheaded and slightly sick to my stomach.

"Oh god," I gag, sitting myself on the edge of the bed, bringing a hand to my mouth in case my body decides to spew. The attendant is next to me in two quick strides.

"Are you all right?" I don't answer but she seems to know. She touches my shoulder, the good one.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," she says, "You're out of there and you're healing. Today was a big jump." I stare emptily into space, something I fear I've done all too often in the past fortnight.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, still feeling queasy, "You've been here helping me and I don't even know your name." The girl smiles.

"Alexis," she answers, "And I don't mind looking after you. This is a volunteer job after all." _Waste of time...dealing with a dirtbag like me..._I release a sigh, tired but not physically.

"I should have died in there." The fragility of my voice frightens me but I believe what I say.

"No you shouldn't have," Alexis argues, "You lived because you wanted to. You're very brave, Mr. Faulkner. Probably the bravest person I know." I abruptly stand, turning my back to her. My voice quivers with emotion as I try to prove my point to her.

"You're wrong. I'm hollow. Afraid. I've been too scared to live my life so I watched others. Documented them. And when anyone tried to get close to me I treated them like shit, too fucking scared to own up and be normal." There is a mirror in this room. I stalk over to it, Jigsaw's words vivid in my memory, _"What do voyeurs see when they look into the mirror?"_ I hardly recognize the deathlike face I see. Paler than I've ever been, large purple shadows appear under my eyes like I've been punched by a weightlifter on both sides, my dark bangs overgrown, close to my eyebrows now, and an aura of illness seems about in the yellowish white pallor of my cheeks. I'm sure I lost a lot of weight; being starved for two weeks with no light and barely any water certainly did a number on me physically.

"Know what I see, you sick bastard?" I growl as if talking to the man who imprisoned me, "A goddamn corpse." Disgusted by myself I tear my gaze away, moving to the other side of the room.

"That kind of attitude won't help your recovery, Mr. Faulkner," Alexis says flatly but before she can say more I aggressively interrupt her with,

"Don't! call me 'mister'. It's one name or the other. Pick one." I have taken up pacing, anxiously biting at my thumbnail.

"Fine. If you want to get better you're going to have to realize you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for and that people _do_ care about you." I turn to face her and snap,

"Who? Who the hell gives a shit about a dumb fuck like me?"

"Dr. Gordon!" she retaliates sharply, "And me!"

"Don't drag Lawrence into this. He only felt bad for me. And you...I don't even know who the fuck you are!" Alexis crosses to me and gets right up in my face.

"I'm your friend in this, Adam. Don't you dare lump me in with your paranoid accusations." We glare at each other for a good long time, green-blue to black-brown, both trying to prove one point or another somehow. Finally Alexis breaks the silence, whipping around so fast her blonde ponytail almost bitchslaps me.

"My time with you is done for today," she says with the pinpricks of annoyance, "Let's see if you can manage sleeping tonight without your bedtime story." Before she makes it to the door I realize my fault in the argument.

"Alexis!" I call out. Hand on the door handle she looks back, unamused. I stare after her pleadingly. "Please...don't leave me alone." _I'm afraid to be alone...among other things otherwise "normal"._

"You're independent again, Adam," she replies simply, "You don't need me anymore and since I obviously don't care about you..." I avert my eyes, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, "I didn't mean to hurt you...just myself..." Alexis sighs and her hand falls from the door handle.

"We have a lot of work to do," she grumbles. I feel like smiling for the first time in what seems like an eternity but I seem to have forgotten how.


	4. Security Blanket

_I'm fanservicing this chapter so look out for cuteness. I just love the arguments between Adam and Alexis though. They bicker like siblings. Also, from the last chapter I realize that Leigh has blue eyes (pretty ^_^) but in Saw they appeared very dark so I am saying the character has brown. Ha. Creative process._

.

"No way. Don't you turn those lights off." Alexis' sarcastic 'try me' look puts the cold fear back in my gut. As if rigged, once the lights go out my knees fly up to my chest, my arms holding them tightly.

"What the hell?" I squeak out, glaring incredulously at her through the shadows I have become so afraid of.

"It's night. You turn off the lights at night."

"No, you turn them ON at night so you can SEE."

"You turn them OFF to SLEEP."

"I'm afraid to go to sleep!"

"If you can't face your fears you can't get over them," she explains, returning to her seat next to the bed, "The dark is nothing to be afraid of." My rapidly palpitating heart disagrees. I swallow the lump in my throat.

"Okay then, Miss Genius," I say, somehow unconsciously trying to 'out-sarcasm' her, "Then I guess the other things aren't things to be afraid of either?"

"You certainly have a knack for defending yourself, only to beat yourself up later. What other things?" I close my eyes as I press my forehead against my knees, trying to block out the images that come with the words.

"Umm, well, there's the dark and going to sleep...bathrooms, metal, puppets...being alone..." Alexis sighs.

"You're showing signs of posttraumatic stress disorder. You just need to relax and calm down."

"What are you, some kinda doctor?"

"Not yet. I have a year left of school before I can train to become one." I look up at her. She's very obviously uncomfortable with the topic, her arms and legs both crossed, her eyes anywhere but on the person she's talking to, me in case you forgot.

"Is it a retake? You look a little old to be just finishing school."

"Gee, thanks. You're only two years older than me you know."

"Why are you so touchy?" _Seriously, she was such a nice person before._ Her eyes narrow, her voice dripping with venom.

"I rub you the way you rub me," she states, "If you rub me the wrong way I will do the same to you. Get it?" She turns her head away again, annoyed. "I flunked it my first time so I have to re-take the year. You can thank my own fears for that." Now I'm curious so I start digging a little deeper.

"What are you afraid of?" She hesitates briefly.

"Being left behind...socially anyway. I'm...kind of a pushover. My so-called friends kept me away from my work." _I knew she was nice. Too nice but nice still. _Alexis shakes herself into composure.

"Well," she says, "Since you won't calm down on your own, maybe we should talk until you do." I roll my eyes.

"Oh yeah, that'll work. We don't seem to have very pleasant conversations if you haven't noticed." She scowls.

"You're much more appealing with your mouth closed."

"How about we both just shut up? If someone's waiting to grab me I want to be able to hear him." Alexis studies me in that suddenly sympathetic way all volunteer aides seem to be born with.

"That's what scares you the most, isn't it?" she says softly. Trembling mostly from irrational fear I nod quickly, habitually scratching at my forearms. I have never cut myself intentionally but I have picked up the habit of scratching when nervous, sort of like nail biting but I only scratch when it gets really bad. Things have never been worse. Alexis takes notice and touches my arm.

"Hey," she whispers, "Stop this. I'm sorry. I should have recognized the triggers. What do you need?" I sigh, trying to force myself to not continue scratching. The only word that comes to mind is-

"_Lawrence_."

"Okay. I think I might be able to sneak you in. Come with me." She gently tugs me to get me to stand. I do without hesitation, allowing her to lead me out into the hallway. Fortunately the night staff are all on the ground floor by this time but we still need to be careful. Alexis guides me silently to Lawrence's room but I am confused when she asks me to wait outside for a minute. She enters and closes the door behind her, leaving me frightened and alone in the darkness of the hospital hallway, where I've learned from horror movies is a very dangerous place to be. _Hurry up, Alexis_, I will silently as I flatten my back against the wall.

.

.

_I am sitting on a cold tile floor, my back pressed to the filthy wall, a metal cuff biting into my ankle. I wonder constantly why I am here, why anything in the past six months has happened. Ever since I was first suspected of being the Jigsaw Killer, no, even before that, my seemingly perfect life has been spiraling slowly and painfully downward and now I am here...stuck in a psychopath's trap. But I am not alone. I can see him on the other side of the room, his face and clothes covered in the white dust from the bathroom floor, those small pieces of tile on his cheek that make me want to go over and brush them off...He played a part in getting me stuck in here but for some reason I don't resent him. I should want to strangle the damn kid but I can't feel anything but pity and a bizarre fondness for him. I know I won't be able to kill him like my rules stated. But there is still the other factor weighing heavily on my shoulders. Alison and Diana...If I don't kill Adam, they'll die and I'll be here forever. If I do kill him, I'll lose someone else important to me. _What am I going to do?

_..._

_I am reaching for the phone but it is too far from me. In my panic I grab the hacksaw, looking between it, my chained foot, and the revolver clutched in the hand of the dead man not ten feet away. My family needs me...I have to sacrifice something...That's how these games work..._

_..._

_The gun is in my shaking hand, bullet at the ready. Adam is stepping side to side, trying to throw off my aim, crying in terror._

_"I wanna live!" his broken voice begs, "Lawrence!" I can't bear to look as I squeeze the trigger, the loud bang and subsequent thud of his body hitting the floor are enough to break me._

_..._

_I am home with my family...it is a year later. I have nearly forgotten about the bathroom...until I begin to see _him_. At first it was little flashes out of the corner of my eye but now I see him before me, deathly pale, his white shirt stained with blood and grime._

_"Why didn't you come back, Lawrence?" he asks me, his voice hollow and sad, "You promised. Why didn't you save me?"_

.

I wake with a terrible start, ice cold sweat beginning to form on my forehead and my heart racing as if I had just run a mile.

"Just a dream," I pant, "A dream..." _That's right. He's alive. _I sit up, pulling my legs from under the sheets to dangle over the edge of the bed, running my hands over my face and hair, trying to shake the dream from me.

"He's alive..." The door to the room opens quietly and a girl steps in. I recognize her as one of the elderly and terminal aides, a volunteer.

"Dr. Gordon?" she says, surprised to see me awake, I'm guessing, "Oh good, you're already awake. Remember me?"

"Yes, you've come in here to talk to me a few times...Alexis, was it?" She nods, her face serious.

"I'm the one taking care of Adam Faulkner." My interest is suddenly piqued.

"Yes?"

"He still has PTSD and he's experiencing some pretty bad anxiety. The dark room was a trigger."

"Where is he now? You didn't leave him alone in there, did you?" Alexis shakes her head.

"No, he's right outside. I was stupid not to see it before but he's really shaken right now. He asked to see you and I think you're his comfort object." Ah, yes. Though most common in children, the use of comfort objects such as a blanket or a stuffed animal will help a person suffering PTSD cope with the stress. I haven't heard of a person being a comfort object. Sufferers tend to surround themselves with people but remain distant. I nod, showing my understanding.

"Okay. Bring him in. Quickly. The last thing we want to happen is for him to have a panic attack." The girl sets her jaw in determination and leaves to retrieve Adam. _It's good he has such a compassionate attendant,_ I think as I watch her long blonde ponytail disappear into the darkness past the door.

.

.

Without Alexis to stop me or the will to stop myself I begin scratching incessantly at my forearms again, beginning to leave faint red lines. I know Alexis and Lawrence are just past the door to my right but I feel the thousand-pound solitude crushing me with fear. I imagine Jigsaw in his awful robe and pig mask leaping out at me from every nook and cranny, every shadow. My breathing picks up and my eyes dart in every which way, making sure nothing is lying in wait to attack me. Standing there shivering I swear I can hear the puppet's creepy laughter from around the corner, waiting for me to silence it and make myself open for abduction. I can see the silhouette of Jigsaw on the wall farthest from me.. My eyes go wide but I am frozen in place. _No..._The shadow draws nearer. _No..._A hand reaches for me. _No!_

"Adam." I almost shriek with fright. But it's only Alexis, her worried expression telling me I need to go in or something worse will happen to me. I gladly enter. Lawrence is sitting up, waiting for me. I release a sigh of relief. Alexis pats my shoulder once and says,

"I'll be sure to get you before the morning staff comes in. Just remember to relax, okay?" I nod and she takes her leave. Lawrence shows me the reassuring smile he knows works so well on me.

"It's okay, Adam," he says, "You're safe now." I bite the inside my my cheek to stop the trembling of my chin. _Safe...What does that mean again?_ I approach and he scoots himself over to make room for both of us on the mattress. Careful of his ankle stump, I climb up next to him and pull him close to me, resting my head on his chest like he's a giant teddy bear. His strong, protective arms are around me almost instantly, encouraging my childlike behavior.

"Lawrence..." I breathe, my whispering voice taking on a kind of involuntary whimper. He rubs my shoulder a few times, consoling me.

"You're okay now," he tells me, "I won't leave you alone again."

"Don't...Don't talk about that. I don't want to remember right now."

"Alright. I won't." Like a powerful sedative I can feel my heart rate and breathing slow just by having him this close to me. I nuzzle my face closer, enraptured by how warm he is, a stark contrast to what I am used to.

"Doesn't this bother your shoulder?" he asks. Strangely-

"No. I'm fine." He nods and we are silent for awhile, listening to each other breathe. I am actually beginning to feel a little drowsy. Who knew I'd be soothed by the scent and touch of a _man_?

"I've spoken with Alexis a few times before," Lawrence says, his tone light and conversational, "She's a sweet girl and she really takes her job as a volunteer seriously." I scoff.

"Sweet? You haven't rubbed her spines the wrong way. Very prickly." He seems surprised.

"Really? She seemed so pleasant when I talked to her."

"Yeah, not nice at all. Like a cactus." Lawrence chuckles, a comforting sound.

"You know, one of my colleagues brought me a cactus about a week ago as a sort of get well gift or something."

"No way."

"Yeah, I just sort of looked at him like...You're joking, right?"

"What did you do with it?"

"Ehh, I threw it out the window." I lean my head up to look at him, baffled yet amused by the sense of humor I swore he lacked.

"Really? In front of him?" He makes a face and shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm still the serious Dr. Gordon around here. I waited until he left and then 'accidentally' nudged it off the windowsill." I give a snort, the best attempt at laughing I can accomplish.

"Man, that's messed up." _Really?_ the little voice in my head questions, _Throwing away a plant is messed up compared to what you endured?_

_Shut the fuck up_, I tell it, _I'm trying to be a little happy right now._ It listens...for now.

"We had tacos today...I think..." I begin again, trying to remember anything about today which is difficult enough, "I remember it tasted kind of like blood and snot."

"That's disgusting. Why did you bring that up?" I can see he's smiling. He thinks it's funny but in that weird way that shouldn't quite be but is.

"I really don't know. At least it wasn't like the mango pudding I had to eat as a kid when I got my tonsils out. I won't give you imagery on what _that _tasted like." Lawrence groans in disgust.

"Ugh, mango pudding. Two things that should never be combined." He laughs again and I am really beginning to feel safe. I move my hips up so I can touch my forehead to the side of his neck. _Warm..._When did we, perfect strangers with every reason to hate each other, become so intimate? And guys aren't supposed to be friends like this. Girls can do it but girls are more sensitive than us. Ugh, why am I even worrying about that? I have him close to me and that's all that matters, right? I release a contented sigh and close my eyes, my fingers wound securely in his t-shirt.

"Feeling better now?" he asks and I nearly shudder at how _good_ his arm feels around my waist.

"Yeah," I reply, "But I'm sure as hell not going back there." He lays his head on mine, another affectionate surprise.

"You don't have to. I don't mind you here." _I guess now's a good time to ask..._

"Lawrence? Why did you save me?" I crinkle my nose in disgust at how childish I sound but continue anyway. "I mean, it wasn't even just once but three times. Why would you do that for me? Even when your family..." My voice trails off but he gets the picture.

"Now you want to talk about it, huh? Well, I guess the simple answer is I didn't have the heart. I knew I should have probably put the lives of my family top priority over a stranger but..." He sighs, sounding at a loss for words. "...I guess I took a liking to you in the end. Is that so bad?"

"I guess not...But you risked everything you had. For _me_. I don't think I'll ever understand that." Lawrence leans over and whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine for whatever crazy reason,

"There are some things in life you can just say thank you for and move on." I try to remain nonchalant.

"Thank you. But you and I both know it isn't over. We _can't_ move on from this." He shifts uncomfortably at the new topic.

"That's what I was afraid of," he admits, tilting his head back against the wall, "We got out but we didn't play by the rules. I'm not as worried as I was before though. If he wanted to come back for us, wouldn't he have by now?" Good point but I'm still not sure. "If you're still scared I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere this time." I swallow hard and nod.

"Okay." He brings up his right hand to touch my cheek again and the shivers become uncontrollable.

"Christ, you're shaking! Are you cold?" I clutch at him tighter.

"No. I just need you right now. I'm scared." The familiar burning at the back of my eyes does not take me by surprise but I still try to fight it. A single choked sob squeaks out and I feel the tiny rush of terror in that Lawrence knows. He pulls me up so we are face to face though I cannot look at him.

"Adam, look at me." He forces my chin up and stares into my eyes with an aggressive fondness so that I am helpless to his actions. A few tears manage to fall but my attention is no longer on them. _What the hell?_ Lawrence leans forward and touches the bridge of his nose to mine, even more intimate a gesture than what we did in the bathroom, even what we had been doing today. My breathing is shallow and trembling, my body tense but submissive. I am completely under Lawrence's control.

"I have never had a friend quite like you," the doctor says, his voice low and breathy, "I will protect you whatever the cost."

"But...your foot..."

"The foot's nothing. So long as you feel safe with me I won't abandon you. Got it?" I bite my lip, still unsuccessful in suppressing the tears. In one last thought of 'screw it' I throw my arms around his neck, bringing my face past to press my cheek against his, and I softly cry. I hate making him see me cry more than anyone but I am still so weak from our experience...so vulnerable...Just the feeling of his arms around me is enough to eventually wear me down into sleep, having used the remains of my energy to emote. As I slip away into the dark I can hear him consoling me still, his gentle, smooth voice alleviating my fears until I am wrapped entirely in the first easy rest I've had in an unbearably long time. _Thank you...Lawrence._

_._

_Wow, this chapter is as long as the whole series so far! Bahaha, you thought they were going to kiss, didn't you? No, I am evil like that. I could have easily made them kiss. But I am the master of torture. Even greater than Jigsaw. I absolutely HAD to put in that bit about the mango pudding from the James/Leigh/Cary commentary when Cary does his Marlin Brando impersonation. I lol'd. XD Keep up reading and reviewing! And thanks for the suggestions from all who gave them to me! See, I do listen sometimes!_


	5. Something's Happening

Alexis came back for me early this morning, just like she had promised, and brought me back to my room. I went reluctantly. I just felt so...secure with Lawrence. And we still have so much to learn about each other which is the strange part. Usually friends as close as us already know every little detail about the other. But we didn't exactly meet on conventional terms so I guess it's okay for now. In fact, I'm feeling pretty good after my night with him.

Alexis left me alone so she could run some errands. I got to watch the sun rise from the window, taking my mind off the solitude; I'm on a high enough floor to see it. I don't think I've ever seen one before. And let me tell you had I not wept myself dry the night before I would have just seeing the sun. It's the goddamn _sun_, for crying out loud. But I haven't really seen it since I was abducted a month ago. So I guess it's something to get all sappy about. It's around nine-thirty a damn important looking doctor comes in, white lab coat and all. My first thought upon seeing her is, _What the hell? She trying to be a girl power Dexter's Laboratory or what?_ She's pretty tall, thin as a rail though, red hair in one of those cop buns and black square-rimmed glasses. Carrying a clipboard. I half expect purple rubber gloves.

"Ah, Mr. Faulkner," she says, "It seems you're well enough to be up and about." _No shit._ "How are you feeling today?" I decide to be a smart ass, like I used to be.

"Like a bucket of sunshine, doc," I reply dryly, "But let me ask how _you're_ feeling?" _Get a stick up your ass this morning?_ She only stares at me, shocked at my response. That makes me feel kind of bubbly.

"Well," she says, collecting herself, "I must say this is a sudden breakthrough. When did you become aware?" I lean my back against the wall, keeping up my old attitude.

"I believe when I was pulled screaming from my mom's muff I was pretty aware." Fem Dex is not amused but I am.

"For the past fourteen days you have been a recluse, not even talking. Now today you at least appear to have fully recovered your consciousness. Now I want to know if you are feeling any dizziness or discomfort-" I cut her off.

"I told you. I'm fine. I don't remember you monitoring me for those fourteen days. As I recall it was Alexis, a _volunteer_. What does that say about how you do your job, doctor?" I could almost grin at her expression. She looks mad enough to burst. Now I remember why I was such an asshole back then. It was _fun_. Doc Dexter pushes her glasses up her nose, her milky white complexion reddening from my observation;

"If I must be as honest as you, Mr. Faulkner," she begins, placing the clipboard on the bed and striding toward me, "I didn't see the point in taking time out of my busy schedule to check up on someone virtually brain dead from shock when I could get a volunteer to do it. Until of course you woke up. I'll have to monitor your condition in the next seventy-two hours to see if you're well enough to be discharged. You're more trouble than you're worth." I clench my jaw in anger. I can't bear to hear those words...the words said to me the night I left home...

.

_"All you do is run around taking pictures of everything you fucking see! Why don't you get a fucking job so you're at least useful?"_

_"It's not that easy..." _

SMACK

_"I'll show you difficult, you wise ass! Get the fuck out and don't come back! You're more trouble than you're worth."_

.

"_Mr. Faulkner...Hello, Mr. Faulkner?_ ADAM!" My head snaps around to face the doctor. _Did I space out?_ She's staring at me but now there's some real concern in her face.

"What happened?" she asks, pulling a penlight from her coat pocket and shining it in my eyes, "What did you see?" My eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"What are you talking about? We were just talking about me getting discharged, weren't we?" Her eyes widen.

"Short term memory loss..." she whispers and I realize I am sitting on the floor. _Huh? When did I sit down?_ "Your eyes went unfocused and you were mumbling something unintelligible. Then you started hyperventilating and displaying other erratic behaviors. And then...you, uh, collapsed." I feel the blood drain my cheeks.

"What?"

"I believe you just experienced a trauma-induced flashback. They're not uncommon in cases like yours. We might need that girl for longer..." I feel cold and numb. _How could I lose that much time after getting better? What the hell is going on?_ The doctor is racing out of the room, to find Alexis presumably, and I am left alone. The fear is growing inside me, I can feel it. Why now? Just when things start looking up I have a relapse. I rub my arms, trying to erase the goosebumps.

"Dammit!" I never knew how powerful memories were. Just being reminded of that night sent me into psycho mode. _What the hell is happening to me?_

"Adam?" Oh, good. Alexis. "I came as quick as I could. Are you all right?" She's squatting in front of me, her usually tight ponytail messy and falling out of its scrunchie.

"I-I think so," I reply timidly, "Doc said I had a traumatic flashback or something. I don't remember anything though." She touches my cheek then my forehead, a worry line appearing between her pale eyebrows.

"You're not warm...that's a good sign. What did you think about right before it happened?" I feel a slight chill at the memory but Alexis' familiar presence keeps me from slipping again.

"I...I remembered when I was kicked out...almost ten years ago..._That bastard_..." The last words come out as an angry hiss as I recall the asshole who hurt me more than anyone ever could before Jigsaw.

"What bastard?" Alexis presses, "Who hurt you? Was it your father?" Close linguistically. I shake my head.

"Step. Bastard gave me hell since I was a kid. Don't remember my real dad." Alexis falls back on her heels into a sitting position.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, "Do you need anything?" _Trying to play on my security blanket reflex, huh? What, are you one of those girls who like seeing guys get snuggly? What was that called again..._

"I think I'm okay right now," I tell her, "Just a little weirded out." She smiles and I feel better.

"Okay. I'll get Dr. Pendleton. She may want to run some tests today." Pendleton must be Dexter. Great, tests. Just what I needed. Why couldn't last night take forever?

.

I am sitting on the edge of a cold metal table, much to my discomfort, as Pendleton returns with some of the results.

"Physically you're fine," she says, "Just a little underweight. But with your psychological exam you weren't as lucky. Just as we thought, you're suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder. What's strange about it is you experience periods of calmness more often than the symptoms. How do you feel about Alexis working with you full time?" _Okay then...Exactly how am I healing again?_

"I wouldn't mind," I respond "But, uh, how long is this problem gonna last?" _How long am I going to have these nightmares?_ Pendleton shakes her head sadly.

"To be honest I don't know. We'll hope for the best in the next three days though. Just listen to Alexis and what she asks you to do and you should be fine." I slide off the table, shaking off the jitters from touching the icy metal. Alexis is waiting outside so I make my way past Pendleton to the door. As I pass her I say,

"Thanks, doc. I'll try to get out of your hair as soon as possible." She nods.

"Noted." But as the door closes I swear I can hear something bump in the vents.

.

.

_Short chapter. Just messing around with PTSD, one of my FAVORITE disorders to work with in fiction. And yes, a little insight on Adam's history. I noticed he has two surnames listed on IMBD (Adam Faulkner-Stanheight). So I wondered...hmmm, maybe he had some jerkoff stepdad who was a factor in his anger issues later on. So yeah, I went there. Apparently Alexis is a qualified therapist? XD I dunno. I needed a bridge chapter before I could pick up on the main plot of the story. And yes, I love Dexter's Lab. It was like my favorite show growing up. My cat is named after him. ANY SUGGESTIONS FOR LAWRENCE INTERACTION WOULD BE GREATLY APPRECIATED! As of now, I am so afraid to bring him in because I don't know his character as well as Adam's. __ But remember, no kissing please! I might do one ONCE on the forehead but that's it. Though I super chain ship AxL this is not a romance story so there needs to be as little as possible with of course fanservice chapters. But I promise, as little slash that there is in this story I will try my best to keep the plot exciting and the language...colorful. But not obscene. So yeah. Lata!_


	6. Too Much, Too Soon

I've come to hate hospitals. Over the course of the two days I've been fully "aware" as Pendleton put it, I have known nothing but the fears I haven't had for the past close to thirty years of my unnecessary life. They don't let you have flashlights so every night is pitch dark. Everything is cold and or made of metal. There's white tiles everywhere and I can't _not_ go to the bathroom. The good part is there aren't any dolls or puppets around. If there were I might have to pelt out of here full speed. Then there's the nightmares. Alexis won't talk about it but I'm sure I've had one every night she's been with me. I swear, though she can be a bitch, that girl is a saint. I've been meaning to tell her to quit working with me, not because I'm feeling worthless but because she needs it, and focus on her schooling 'cause she'd make one hell of a doctor. But I don't know if I ever will. She wouldn't listen anyway. She's very stubborn which is why I guess they assigned her to me. To work with an ass you need to be one. Ha. I almost made myself laugh. Oh, Adam, you are SO fucking witty. But back to the main event.

I don't know if it's just my trauma talking but I swear I'm being watched...followed. Whenever I'm alone (sometimes for a few hours while Alexis gets back to her life) the hairs on the back of my neck stick up and I'm compelled but terrified to turn around. I end up finding absolutely nothing there, as expected. I feel like I'm going crazy. Lawrence reassures me but I can't help but think he's just trying to calm me down. Jigsaw is still out there and I feel that somehow he isn't done with me. I was saved when I should have died, according to him anyway. I think I want to talk to Lawrence.

It's about 1:30 AM and Alexis isn't here. I told her to go home and rest. She listened for once. But now it's at my own expense. I'm going numb but I know I'm shaking like an Italian Greyhound on speed. It's completely silent when I sneak out of my room into the stygian hallway. So silent I can hear a ringing in my ears. So dark I have to keep one hand on the wall to know where I'm going. I don't take two steps in the direction of Lawrence's room that I hear the same sound I heard this afternoon when I left the examination room. A slight bumping in the vents...could be the air conditioning but no air is coming out. I freeze up for a moment, the paralyzing fear of Jigsaw watching me making my heart beat faster than a cat with a thyroid problem. I catch myself when the bumping stops. _Just keep going_, I tell myself,_ If you keep moving you can get to Lawrence and you'll be okay._

_I'll never be okay._

I inhale deeply and force my legs to move. Though it's again quiet enough that all I hear is my own hyperactive heart I _know_ I'm not alone. _Why am I doing this?_ I wonder then remind myself, _I need Lawrence. I'd give myself a heart attack if I stayed in that room._

_You're giving yourself one now._

My eyes are adjusted enough to see the room numbers on the doors. 303...304...305...Lawrence is in 310. One of the last rooms on this level. Then it goes upstairs to the psych ward. I can see myself ending up there. I jump as the thud in the vents sounds again. _Keep going_, I remind myself, trying to control my breathing, _You're almost there._ I pick up the pace. I imagine Jigsaw in his awful robe and pig mask, covered in blood, jumping down form the ceiling and grabbing me. The thought makes my skin crawl. I imagine opening the door to Lawrence's room and finding him dead, Jigsaw standing over him, waiting for me. I imagine Alexis coming in in the morning to find me mutilated on the floor, sending her into the same hell I'm going through. By the time I reach room 310 I am practically sprinting. With a hand opposite a surgeon's steadiness I open the door and slip inside. Lawrence is asleep..._alive_. The relief is so powerful my knees give out and I slide down the door.

"Oh!" I sigh, realizing my panic was in vain. Lawrence is fine, of _course_ he's fine! There's nothing to worry about, just like they say, right? I guess my entrance and labored breathing caught the sleeping doctor's attention because he's turning over to face me.

"Adam?" he whispers, "What's wrong?" _Must be a doctor thing to be such a light sleeper._ I stand and hurry over to him. He gets the picture pretty quickly. I can't even face him right now so I just lie down next to him and pull his arm around my waist. He pulls his wrist out of my grip and squeezes my hand.

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on or just act like a five-year-old?" Wow, this is weird. I never was one for spooning to begin with but now I'm practically begging for it.

"I want to talk," I respond, desperately steadying my voice, "Is it so horrible to need this too?" Lawrence shifts his head on the pillow, probably with that confused expression I'd been too familiar with in the bathroom.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asks. I shiver at his warm body pressed against my back.

"I think I'm losing my mind." Now I've said that line about fifty times before to girlfriends, best friends, even my mother. None of those times I truly believed it. This time I do and I think Lawrence knows it.

"I'm not a therapist but from what's been going on I'd take a guess at stress," he tells me and I jump in before he can finish his thought.

"It's not stress, okay?" _God, my voice is whiny when I'm upset. _"I...I think he's here. No, I _know_ he's here! I wasn't supposed to leave, Lawrence. He's coming to take me. I can feel it." Lawrence stiffens for a second then relaxes and brushes the back of my neck with...something, I can't quite tell what. Probably his forehead.

"Okay. Adam, I want you to listen to me. Can you turn around so I can see you?" _I swear if this guy wasn't married to a woman and sneaking off with younger women I'd think he was an inch away from flaming...the way he treats me..._I half reluctantly half excitedly flip over onto my bad shoulder so I can face him.

"The fuck...am I your boyfriend or something?" I grumble stubbornly, keeping my eyes away from his. He grabs my chin firmly, forcing me to look at him. His blue eyes are dark, serious.

"Have I not already told you I won't let anything happen to you?" he growls and instantly I am afraid of him, but not for myself, "First of all, this hospital is _littered_ with security cameras. It isn't even moderately easy for someone to sneak in or out. Second, if Jigsaw did miraculously get past the entrances and cameras, do you honestly think he would be able to get far with you kicking and screaming? I mean, not to sound offensive but you're kind of predictable and I know you know how to take care of yourself if you really need to." I swallow the lump in my throat, knowing he's right.

"Doesn't mean I'm not still scared," I whisper, "And you haven't gotten to the big picture. I am going insane." He smiles and gently ruffles my eternally tousled hair.

"You seem pretty sane right now. Listen, you can come here whenever you feel threatened. I'm kind of a doctor." Something bubbles up inside my chest at that sentence...something I can't seem to remember doing but I know what it is. A small, almost girlish laugh escapes me and I'm surprised at how _good_ it makes me feel.

"Whoa...I laughed..." Lawrence nuzzles me like he did last night.

"Yeah, you did." That smile sticks to my face for a good long time. But then the downer side of Lawrence has to have his say.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this but I'm getting discharged in two days," he says. My smile vanishes and I groan.

"You're such a killjoy, Larry, y'know? They say I can be _considered_ for discharge in three."

"You've got Monica, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"Monica Pendleton, am I right?" I can't help but smile again.

"You nailed it. She doesn't believe me unless I'm having an episode. Then she calls Alexis to take over." Lawrence shrugs loosely.

"Honestly, she's the worst doctor here and I'm sorry you had to get her. No one knows what her problem is."

"Wonderful. I'll try not to hallucinate in the next three days so I can get out of here." _Please don't get all SERIOUS BUSINESS on me now..._Thankfully he doesn't and we just sort of cuddle for awhile. _What the hell happened to me that I suddenly like cuddling?_ If any of my girlfriends wanted to cuddle or spoon or do anything fucking _romantic _I'd instantly reject it. I guess that's why I never was the one to initiate break up.

"Adam?" Lawrence breaks the comfortable silence.

"Nn?" I grunt in acknowledgment. He hesitates.

"When...When this is all over and we both get back to our lives and put this whole thing with Jigsaw behind us...Will we still be friends?" So I'm not the only insecure one.

"I was worried about that too," I admit, "But you're the only real friend I've ever had, y'know? Guys I've known since grade school don't know me as well as you do from eight hours in a fucking bathroom. I...I can't _lose_ you, man." Crap. Now I'm getting emotional.

"You won't," Lawrence assures me, "We've got to stick together, right?" I nod.

"Definitely." I've almost completely forgotten the terror I felt coming down here...the feeling of being followed...Almost...

* * *

_I always seem to bring in fanservice chapters on the even numbered. XD So yeah, my master plot is unfolding...the ventilation monster...lol. And some Lawrence insecurities! Yai! Also, I found out 'stygian' can refer to dark or gloomy. If you remember, Stygian Street was the name of the street Jigsaw's hideout was on and it was the name of an earlier film by James and Leigh. YUS! I was trying to keep this cuddle interesting and different from the chapter 4 one. Sorry to say there will be much less Lawrence in the following chapters. For the plot to really come together I need Adam to be alone. Alone and scared. Yes, that IS one of the reasons Larry is being discharged earlier than him. I AM A BITCH, I KNOW! -_-;_


	7. I Can Feel Him

With no Alexis to warn us, Lawrence and I stayed in our weird little cuddle all night. We were woken by Dext-I mean Pendleton.

"Do you have any idea how frantic you made everyone by disappearing? This isn't a day care, Faulkner! And Dr. Gordon, I am certainly surprised that you allowed him to stay here!" Ugh, now I am on the floor with a headache. Thank you so much, doctor. Lawrence tries to defend me.

"Right now in this stage of coping his mind is close to a child's. He needs a comfort object and I sure didn't tell him to pick me nor would I deny him. We _are_ trying to help him, Monica." Thanks, Larry, but I'm still in pain here.

"You're not a psychologist! He is _my_ patient and he _needs_ to stay in his room!" Just shut up, both of you. Especially the redhead.

"You aren't one either. And I couldn't just send him back to his room when it about sent him into a panic attack just to get through the hall." Really. Both of you. I'm starting to get a migraine.

"He is NOT your patient, Gordon!"

"Can we all just shut up? Please?" I mutter, unheard by the quarrelling doctors. I feel a jerk on my arm as Pendleton yanks me to my feet.

"We're going now," she says, "I'll be locking your door at night from now on, do you understand?" I grimace and look back at Lawrence who only shakes his head sadly.

"Yes, ma'am," I mumble submissively.

"Good. Now _move_." I am practically dragged back to my room where the door is slammed shut and locked behind me. I hear Pendleton's heels angrily clicking away down the hall.

"Oh my god, Adam, I'm so sorry!"

"Huh?" Before I can turn to look, I am suddenly being hugged by someone whose blonde hair is about a centimeter away from being inside my mouth. "Alexis?"

"I knew I shouldn't have left you yesterday!" she says, "They're not gonna let you leave this room without me and they're definitely not gonna let you see Lawrence anymore. Not even in daytime."

"Guess I'm screwed then, huh?" I respond dully, "Goodbye discharge, just bring me upstairs now while you're thinking of it." Alexis pulls back and glares at me.

"Don't give me that attitude. You'll be fine. I'm not a genius at therapy but I can help you get through the next two days. You'll be out of here in no time." I smile wryly.

"I'm sorry, Alexis, but you're wrong this time. I've already had relapses."

"That doesn't mean you can't heal yourself. What do you say I take you to the hospital library? They won't bother you there." I think on it for a moment. Maybe in there I can feel some sort of escape from the paranoia. I agree to go.

"Uh-uh," Alexis says as I try to leave, "Eat first." Oh right, food. I haven't really been feeling the effects of hunger lately...

.

This place gives me the creeps. First of all it's about as cramped as a goddamn closet and second, Alexis left me in here ALONE. Is that really such a good idea with my issues? I release a sigh as I sit near the back wall. _Oh well_, I think, _Might as well try to get used to being alone again._ Not like it'll help. A book about pets catches my eye.

"Maybe I should consider getting a dog..." I mutter pulling it off the shelf. _If I ever get out of here._ Not really paying attention to the book, I sort of space out, thinking about what I really don't want to: the bathroom. I remember everything up till my passing out when I was rescued...every pathetic sob, every thought, every time I curled up on my side in bouts of wrenching pain from the hunger and slowly spreading infection. And I remember waking up in a fog in the hospital, wondering if I was really alive or if I was stuck in some kind of weird Purgatory. I remember seeing doctors milling around all the time and an attendant by my side...They alternated at first before Alexis became the permanent one. She was the nicest, as I recall. But everything was still hazy...unfocused...until that conversation with the detective a couple days ago. _But..._Now that I'm thinking about it, I remember a middle ground. Between the light filling the bathroom and waking up in the hospital...It's like a video tape in my head how easily I can see it.

.

_Numb..._I open my eyes but need to squint at the bright lights flashing over me. I can feel myself moving...a gurney? _I'm so tired._ Everything's blurry. I can hear people talking, talking loudly, yelling around me. Occasionally an arm will reach out over me but I can't see whose it is or what they're reaching for. Numb...then pain. Stabbing, burning, excruciating pain shoots down my right arm from my shoulder. I can hear a strangled mewl of agony...my voice? The voices become more urgent, louder, faster. I can pick out a few words now.

"He's conscious! We gotta move!" Are they talking about me? Why would they talk about me? I'm dead, aren't I? But if I'm dead, _why does it hurt?_ Another cry escapes my dry, itching throat. _It hurts so bad..._Then suddenly relief. Liquid bliss filling my veins, making me sleepy.

"Hang in there, guy," a voice tells me before everything turns black again. _Hang in there..._I'm alive?

.

"Whoa!" I snap myself out of the memory, nearly dropping the book in my hands. My eyes are wide, heart racing. _What the hell was that?! Did I just have another flashback?_ But I remember it this time. I shelve the book with shaking hands and stand. This is too weird. I need to get out of here. But as I am but three steps from the door I hear a thump in the ceiling and freeze. A disgustingly liquid feeling chill trickles down the back of my neck and over my spine. Chin trembling, I force myself to turn around. I feel my heart stop beating. There, looking down from a shifted ceiling tile, is the black maned pig face I still have nightmares about...the pig face of Jigsaw. Fear's icy hands are around my throat and beginning to squeeze. _No..._I can't breathe. The pig face seems to smirk at my terror and black gloved hands slowly reach out to grab onto the edges of the hole. _Run._ I turn and bolt for the door, not getting out fast enough. I slam it shut behind me, falling back onto the opposite wall, hyperventilating. Alexis is by my side in an instant, her hands gripping my upper arms securely.

"Adam? Adam, what happened? Are you okay?" I stare at the door behind her, expecting to see the dark silhouette of Jigsaw in the rippled glass but finding nothing. My movements made jerky with panic, I bring my arms up defensively and try to pull out of her grip.

"He's in there," I gasp, "I saw him. He's in the ceiling!" A nurse who happens to be walking by notices the situation and asks if she can help.

"Yeah, we need to see if someone is in the ceiling in the library," Alexis replies, "Maybe for something electrical?" The nurse nods and goes to check the room. I stare at Alexis in disbelief.

"I know what I saw," I insist. She shrugs.

"I believe you," she says, "But in your state I have to be at least one percent skeptical in case you made a panic-induced mistake." The nurse pokes her head out of the room.

"There's nobody in here," she tells us with a smile, "The ceiling tiles aren't even moved." My stomach drops.

"Are you sure?" Alexis asks. The nurse nods and goes on her way.

"Go see for yourself." Alexis nudges me onward. We go back into the library only to find that the nurse was right. I feel the familiar itch at the back of my eyes in pure confusion.

"He was here..." I whisper, "I know he was here..." Alexis touches my arm reassuringly.  
"I think it's time we went back to your floor," she says kindly, "You'll be fine, okay?" _How can you be so sure..._

_._

* * *

_A/N: Hey, all! I'm back! Sorry this chapter took so long. I had been working on it little by little, I promise. Finally some more flashbacks. And oh noes! No more visits to Lawrence! How will Adam cope? And did he really see Jigsaw in the ceiling or is he going crazy? Guess what? I'm not gonna tell you! LOL! Sorry. No, I WILL eventually tell you, just not yet. I'm looking forward to your reads and reviews! Thanks for keeping this going, guys!_


	8. Voices

I can feel him watching me. I couldn't trust Alexis in her saying she believes me so I thought of a way to make everyone see. Wait a minute. Roll it back a few frames. Here we go.

It's pretty late a night right now, after the library incident. Pendleton has had Alexis watching me like a hawk all day but neither of them can tell me what to _think_, can they? They won't let me see Lawrence and I know I'll go crazy without him. So I came up with a plan. It'll make me shit my pants but I think I can do it. Alexis is gone for the night. Why? Well, don't all get up at once to congratulate my acting skills but I faked sleep so she could go home. But that's not all. You might be thinking to yourself, 'Wait a minute. The door is locked from the outside. How the fuck are you getting out of there, genius?' Genius that I am, while Alexis took one of her frequent pee breaks (dunno what that girl drinks to make her go that much) I stuck a little square of paper the the lock. The rat may not know how to get the cheese but he always knows how to escape. I need to stop with the metaphors.

So anyway, here I am making my way back to the library. Why not head over to Lawrence's room and make the most out of our time left in the hospital? I'm smart enough to figure out they locked his door too. So why am I going back to the place where I nearly had a heart attack? I'm offering myself as bait to prove to everyone that I'm _not _crazy and that Jigsaw _is_ trying to get me. I mean, if Alexis doesn't believe me and she's trying to tell me she does, there's a problem. So I'm gonna fix that problem. Everyone's gonna know that I wasn't lying, that I'm not crazy. I'm just scared is all. I'm not paranoid. He's _after_ me. If someone was after you and you knew it, you knew every second you were alone he might come out and grab you, would that be paranoid to you?

I've made it to the library. I jostle the door handle.

"Dammit!" I hiss. It's locked. I pace around in front of the door for a few moments, nibbling at my thumbnail on one hand and scratching at my wrist with the other, trying to think of what to do. _What would make me more vulnerable?_ I wonder. I'm about as vulnerable as they get right now. Alone, jumpy, stupid...Maybe not so much stupid as reckless. Damn, I'm picking up on Lawrence's vocabulary. Come on, Faulkner, think! What would make you more open for attack? I snap my fingers in revelation. Of course! The easiest target is a sleeping one.

"Shoulda just stayed there," I mumble to myself. I head back, feeling more chills from the dumbass thing I'm planning to do than how fucking cold it is in this hallway. I hug my arms, rubbing measly amounts of warmth into them. The rubbing quickly turns to scratching the closer I get to my room. My feet unconsciously move faster when I see the number 304, my room. As I close the door behind me I swear I can hear another of those dull thuds that have tormented me for the past two days. Swallowing my panic I go to the bed, readying myself for whatever disaster may come. Though I've managed to keep my breathing in check, my heart is hammering in my chest, telling me to run. _Where the fuck am I supposed to run, dumbass?_ I ask it with annoyance, _He's everywhere._

_And you say you're not paranoid._

I wish that stupid voice would just stay quiet. Shit, am I really hearing voices now? I shake myself.

"Just shut up and go to sleep," I growl, "This has to work..." It's cold in here. Not as cold as _then_ but still pretty damn cold. I refuse to pull the sheets up for fear of them getting in the way of me escaping. So I just curl up on my side, trembling like a freaking squirrel and try to calm down even a little bit. I close my eyes, thinking about the things that calm me down...Grass blowing in a slight breeze...hot chocolate after spending the day in the snow...Lawrence's strong, safe scent pressed up close...Whoa. What the hell was that thought just now? I'm not like that...not _sensitive_ like that...Great. Instead of calming me down, thoughts of him just made me anxious all over again. Thank you so much, underused already expired teenage hormones. You make my life so much easier. While I'm berating myself I can feel a new chill in the room. Something's behind me. I freeze up. The rustling of fabric and the slight pressure on the edge of the mattress make my throat close up in terror. My eyes are wide but I am too scared to turn around. Then I hear it. His low, wheezing voice I've only heard once before...once and then my world was blackness for two weeks.

"Did you really think I'd fall for that, Adam?" he says into my ear, "You're losing your touch. This isn't how the game works. You should know by now you can't beat the system. You can't break the rules. You are right however. I am coming back for you. But not now. Now is not the time. So rest easy tonight, Adam. You'll need your strength for when your time comes. I'll be watching." I can't breathe. The person I am most afraid of, the man who stole my life and made me scared to even go to the bathroom is standing behind me right now...talking to me...making my nightmare real...By the time I can inhale and gather enough courage to turn around, Jigsaw is gone.

_No one will believe you, you schizo._ I flip back onto my side and clamp my hands over my ears.

"Shut up!" I hiss, "I'm not crazy! I'm not!"

_You are. No one will believe you._

"Stop it!"

_Not even Lawrence will believe you. You might as well _beg _them to move you to the fourth floor._

"Shut _up_! Don't drag him into this!"

_You'll never see him again. He'll forget all about you and move on with his wife and his daughter..._

"No! He knows me! He wouldn't...wouldn't leave me..."

_He left you once. He got out. You were supposed to stay in that room. You were supposed to die._ The tears are hot and heavy now. Why won't it _stop_?

"I know!" I sob, "I know, I know, I _know!_ We broke the rules...I'm sorry!"

_You're not sorry. You were too afraid to die. Lawrence pitied you. He feels nothing for you but pity._

"Please...I'm _sorry_...Just stop!" But the voice doesn't stop. It tells me how useless I am and how I should be dead all night long. And so I remain awake all night, petrified with fear and the crushing loneliness, crying tears of self pity and self loathing and fear. _I'm sorry._

* * *

_A/N: I'm back! Sorry about the gap. Zero inspiration. Poor Adam, going nutso. Did he really just have an encounter with Jigsaw or is the little voice in his head playing tricks on him? I'm not going to tell you now but this series is going to end soon so you'll find out in the next few chapters. The end of the series is tied closely with Adam's downward psychological spiral and Lawrence's upcoming discharge. The climax is imminent! So stay tuned, my lovely readers!_


	9. Leaving

I ended up not sleeping last night but the voice finally stopped around dawn. I decided to get up at that point and move around, do _something_ to take my mind off it and think of what to do next. I know now that Jigsaw is in the hospital and he's watching me. He's probably in the ceiling right now, looking at me, figuring out my plan to prove I was right. I can beat him and the voice. I can play by my own rules. I'm smart enough to not say any of my plans aloud, and that means Alexis and Lawrence can't know. This has to be on me, my responsibility, my burden. It pains me not to tell someone and maybe get some help but I don't want Jigsaw to be ahead of me or possibly hurt one of the few people I trust. I have to go it alone, something I should be used to but it feels so alien now.

By the time Alexis comes back I'm at the window, staring out at the city beyond the confines of the hospital. She speaks hesitantly, careful like I might crack. She might be right in thinking so.

"Hey, Adam," she says, and I can hear her setting her bag down on the floor, "Did you sleep well?" I don't respond. I'm afraid if I open my mouth I'll tell her everything. _She can't know._ I have to remember though I trust her she doesn't believe me. I hear her approach from behind, her sneakers tapping softly on the linoleum.

"Are you okay?" she asks, touching my shoulder (the good one) to turn me around. She looks surprised (I must really look like shit). "You had another nightmare, didn't you?" Let me think on that. I guess you could call it that, even though I wasn't sleeping. So I nod, avoiding her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she says, "I left you again and I shouldn't have. It's just...You're the most complicated patient I've ever had to work with." _I bet._ She runs a hand through her long blonde hair which, I notice, is down for a change. I try to smile at her but it comes out as a sort of depressing grimace.

"Hey, think of it this way," I tell her, "Whether I make it out of here or not you can use me as an essay for school." She doesn't find it funny. _Gee, what a surprise, Faulkner. Someone doesn't find you hilarious._

_Shut the fuck up._

"Something's happening to you and I can't stop it," Alexis says in a near whisper, "I consider you a friend so I hate seeing you hurt like this. Please, tell me if there's anything I can do to help you." I feel a wrenching pain in my chest. _You can't help me, Alexis._

"I'm sorry," I mutter, my voice somehow raspy all of a sudden. But I stop there because I know I'll start caving if I talk more. I rub my wrist uncomfortably. Suddenly Alexis grabs one of them, pulling my arm towards her.

"Adam...What have you done to yourself?" I look where she's looking. Long, thin scrapes criss-cross my forearm, smeared with small traces of blood. I feel cold.

"Did I...?" I can't finish. I know I did. It's gotten worse.

"I'll get Dr. Pendleton," she says and turns to leave but I stop her.

"No...Anyone but her."

"She's _your _doctor." I shake my head.

"I don't care. Just...a nurse or someone else...if you insist on getting someone." Alexis nods once and leaves. I'm alone again. Every time I'm alone I know _he's_ there. I can try to shut my eyes and pretend it's a hallucination but I know it won't work. I squeeze my bloody forearms in the tension, the pain a welcome reminder that I'm at least alive. Knowing that, I also know I can defend that for as long as I am able. I won't let him win.

There's a knock at the door (it had been left open in Alexis' rush to get out) and someone says,

"Knock knock." I look up and a flicker of warmth appears in me.

"Lawrence!" I quickly drop my arms to my sides, trying to hide the scratch marks. "What are you doing here?" He limps forward a few steps, into the room. He's using a cane now and what looks like a prosthetic foot but I can't really see and I can't say I want to either.

"I, uh, just got discharged," he says, looking about as uncomfortable as I feel, "They were all grumpy about it downstairs but I came to say goodbye." That familiar hollow feeling fills me again. _Oh, right. I almost forgot._

"Has it really been that long?" I whisper. There's a pause.

"Hey, don't worry," Lawrence says with forced cheer, breaking the silence, "I won't drop off the radar. And it's not like you'll be here forever. And if you are, I'll just keep visiting you." _Not helping, Larry._ "The point is, it'll be all right. Don't worry so much." The air is thick in the eight foot distance between us. I can't look at him.

"You don't have to be here," I say dully, "Your family's probably waiting for you." I fidget with the hem of my shirt. "You should go to them." Lawrence sighs and hobbles over to me. He passes his cane to the other hand and grips my good shoulder tightly.

"Adam," he says, "You'll be fine. I promise." I bite my lip uncomfortably.

"Your family is waiting for you." Another pause. _Why is so awkward between us now?_ With one last pat on the shoulder, Lawrence kisses my forehead (I'm a little weirded out by that but it's him so it's okay) and leaves without another word. I stare down at the floor so I don't have to see him go again. Not a minute later Alexis returns with a four foot tall, overweight, over dyed red haired nurse who has a little First-Aid kit.

"Let's take a look at those arms, dear," she says in that tired but friendly voice all older nurses seem to have, "You don't want an infection, do you?" _Maybe I do..._

.

I can't do this anymore. Jigsaw might as well just come out and kill me already because I'll go crazy otherwise. After the nurse bandaged my arms and left I asked Alexis if I could go to the bathroom. It surprised her and I know why but when I got there I just sort of sat in the corner and cried for about an hour. She stood outside the entire time but didn't say anything or open the door to see if I needed anything and I'm very grateful for that. I didn't want her to see it for one thing and for another I just couldn't handle any human contact for awhile. I miss Lawrence and I wish he had stayed, even though I told him to go. I want him here, telling me it'll be all right and I want to believe him about that. I just want to be in a place where I'm not scared all the time or angry or confused...But I know that will never happen and I'm a fucking moron to even think it.

.

_A/N: Welcome back, guys. I should probably tell you chapter 10 will be the tentative conclusion to the series. It will definitely have the climax and explanation to everything though and I am going to try to make it very exciting for you, my lovely readers. But don't mourn this series because I have planned a sequel story that takes place a few months later in Alexis' POV. It will be very emo and so I will have to make it short. Then after that, POW, we have a trilogy. That one will probably be mostly in Lawrence's POV so I'll have to work on his personality. Thanks so much for reading this, guys, and I hope to see you in the final stage of The Only Word and the two installments after it._


	10. Final Cut

_A/N: Here it is, guys. The big 1-0. This might turn out to be really long as I will be switching POVs frequently. Also, the climax is in this chapter so I'll make it as exciting as I can. DON'T START READING UNLESS YOU HAVE A LOT OF TIME TO KILL. THIS MOTHERHUGGER IS LOOOOOOOOOONG. Thanks for putting up with me!_

It's late. I'm curled up on my side, despite the dull ache in my bad shoulder, absently playing with the sleeve on the opposite side. Alexis is sitting in the chair and I have my back to her. I don't want to see her sympathetic face. The only sound I can hear is the ticking of the clock on the wall.

_Tick...tock..._

"You know, your evaluation is tomorrow," Alexis says, "I'm sure you'll do fine." Her voice is shaky, forcibly cheerful. I don't respond.

_Tick...tock..._

"I know...I know you're not crazy like all the doctors think," she starts again, "You haven't gotten a fair deal, that's all. I know the past few days have been really stressful to you and you don't deserve it...any of...what's happened to you. No one deserves what happened to you. It's sick and it's wrong and everyone deserves a life of their own choosing...not someone else's." Why the speech all of a sudden? And why does she sound like she's about to cry?

_Tick...tock..._

"You're going to get out of here, I promise. They haven't seen you these past few days. You aren't..." As she hesitates in search of a good word of what I'm not her cell phone rings. One of those annoying generic tones you only have if you're a fifty-eight year old cougar with a spray tan or if you just don't care enough to change it.

"I'm sorry. Hello? Yes? ...What?" She stands and moves behind the chair. I swallow my pride and turn around, sitting up in the process. A look of horror has passed over Alexis' face, her free hand pressed up against her mouth and her pale eyes wide. I tilt my head in curiosity and concern. She nods, as if the person on the other line can see her.

"O-okay. I understand. I'll be there as soon as I can." She hangs up and paces for a few seconds, anxious.

"What happened?" I ask softly, catching her attention. She stops pacing for a moment and looks up at me. She looks like I just appeared out of nowhere.

_Tick...tock..._

"It's my mom," she says, "She's in the hospital."

"Is she okay?" She shakes her head and starts pacing again.

"I dunno. They just said she had an accident and she's in the hospital. I..." I speak without even thinking the words.

"Go."

"What?"

"Go to your mom. She needs you."

"But-" I shake my head.

"I'll be fine. Just go." The tortured look in her eyes I take as gratitude. She grabs her bag and leaves quickly with the final words tossed over her shoulder,

"I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't worry!" I grimace. _Worrying's part of life, honey._

_Tick...tock..._

I notice she left the door open a bit in her rush to leave. I get up to go close it...and make sure the square of paper is still there. Thankfully it is so once the door is shut I go back to the bed. Without Alexis there to babble about how she believes in me (what a fucking lie) I can actually get a bit of rest. I'm nervous as hell but I know I'll need my strength for when Jigsaw decides to show his ugly face.

_Tick..._

.

.

I'm lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking..._Is he all right by himself? Should I have requested one more night? They'd turn me down but I just don't feel right leaving him there. He's too...Goddammit, what's the right word? Fragile? What, is he a porcelain doll? Snap out of it, Lawrence, he's an adult. He can take care of himself. I know, I just..._I sigh and wonder why I'm thinking something so bizarre about some kid I met only a month ago.

_...want to protect him..._

It's not his fault we were put in that situation a month ago. It's not his fault I lost my foot and it's not his fault we both have severe psychological scarring because of what happened. _Him worse than me..._I sigh again. Something just doesn't feel right tonight.

.

.

I gasp myself awake, feeling like I stopped breathing while I was asleep. I cough harshly, having choked a bit on saliva, and sit up, hanging my feet off the edge of the bed. I hunch over, pressing my face to my hands, trying to rid my mind of the nightmare. I dreamed I was falling. Before you get all "that's normal" on me, hear me out first. I was falling for a really long time and then suddenly landed in Jell-O. Cool, right? Wrong. Jell-O has no substance to it. You just sink right through it and no matter how hard you try you can't climb out because there's nothing solid to grab on to. You suffocate. Well that's what was happening but then the Jell-O turned into rusted hacksaws. I was already flailing from the Jell-O so the saws cut me pretty easily. It's a lie that you can't feel pain in dreams. My body still aches from the sensation. I bet you wanna know what happened next, huh? Guess what? Nothing. I woke up. Spoiled your sadistic imagination, didn't I?

I run my hands up over my scalp and stand up, heading over to the mirror I so avoided in my time here. I look worse than I did the last time I checked, large purple bruise marks under my eyes, making them look shadowed and sunken, cheekbones poking out sharply from the tops of even thinner cheeks, almost ghostly white in the dark. As I'm looking, I notice movement in the glass...something behind me..._Is that real? _It's a huge black shape...and it's coming up right behind me. _Jigsaw!_

_...tock..._

.

.

I am pulling my jacket on when Alison's voice causes me to stop dead.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asks. Almost guilty, I turn to face her. She's in new silk pajamas (she bought nearly an entirely new wardrobe after the night with Zepp) and her arms are folded. She's glaring at me like I'm a four-year-old with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I've got to get to the hospital," I tell her vaguely, going to get my keys but finding them missing. A jingle from behind me tells me that Alison has confiscated them. I limp over to her, leaning rather heavily on my cane for support.

"I need those, dear." She raises an eyebrow skeptically.

"Why do you need to go to the hospital if that's where you're really going?" I sigh.

"Ali, please. Something doesn't feel right. I've got to go!"

"Is it that volunteer girl I saw you talking to? The young one with the ponytail?" _Oh yes, jump to conclusions that immediately after being discharged from the hospital with an amputated foot I'm having an affair with a volunteer who all I know is her name and that she's polite. Real smart of you, Alison._

"It's not Alexis..." Shit. Wrong choice of words.

"Oh, _Alexis_, huh? How long have you been seeing her? How old is she? Is she one of _those_ with an amputee fetish? Come on, Larry, I thought we were past all this!"

"It's not _her!_"A realization passes over her face.

"Oh, I see. They told me about this but I didn't think anything of it. It's that _kid_, isn't it? The one who was in there with you." I avert my eyes. She got a bullseye on that one. Incredulous anger takes root in Alison's expression and stance.

"I don't believe this!" she says, "My husband is leaving me for a twenty-something _guy_ who he doesn't even fucking know!" My own anger flares up and I raise my voice slightly.

"I know him well enough! I know he's in trouble right now and he needs me. I don't know how, I just _know_ and I need to go to him. Just _please_. Ali." I soften my voice to try to appeal to her sympathetic side. "Give me the keys." She hesitates then asks carefully,

"What kind of trouble?"

.

.

_Move...Movemovemovemovemovemovemove!_ Despite the fear stiffening every inch of my body I force myself to jump to the side, Jigsaw missing me by a fraction of a second. I'm already starting to hyperventilate. The black shape straightens up. He's not as tall as he looked from the floor of that bathroom but still terrifyingly intimidating.

"Your flight sense is still strong, I see," he says in that awful raspy voice, "It outweighs your fight sense and that is why you failed." He starts stalking towards me again but now I've got an adrenaline rush on my side. I turn and bolt for the door, yanking it open and taking two fumbled attempts to rip the paper off the lock before slamming it shut behind me. I race down the dark hallway, the banging on the door an incentive to just move _faster_. I turn the corner and flatten up against the wall, trying desperately to calm down enough to figure out a plan. My lungs aren't listening and continue to work double time and it's starting to hurt. But glancing to my right I spot something that could quite possibly save my life: emergency fire axe.

.

.

"Listen, Ali, I don't have the time for this. I just know he's in _some_ sort of trouble and he needs my help. I'll be back soon, I promise. Please..." I don't know if it's working or not but she's not interrupting or yelling anymore so that's good. "I'm all he's got." She considers this a moment, a deep struggle in her eyes. Finally she hands the keys over and starts to go back to our bedroom.

"If you're not back by morning you're not getting in the house," she warns and I can tell she means it. As I hobble out to the car I pull out my cell phone and dial the number Alexis gave me in case something happened. She's a smart girl and I'm thankful for her doomsday preparations.

"Hello, Alexis? It's Lawrence Gordon. I think Adam's in trouble. Yes. Yeah, I'm driving over there right now. Can you meet me there? Okay...Okay, good. Oh, and Alexis? Hurry."

.

.

"It was a freak accident. It was like someone set it up."

"Don't say stuff like that! It was an accident; you said it yourself."

"Yeah but it's just weird is all." I'm at the hospital my mother was admitted to, waiting nervously for a doctor to tell my brothers and myself what's going on. Our mother was found at the bottom of the staircase in the apartment building she lives in with multiple fractures and a concussion. But there's no way she could have tripped. It was like someone pushed her. And some of the other residents said they saw a young woman with very short hair they didn't recognize prowling around earlier in the day. I don't think this was a coincidence. The doctor walks out to where the three of us are sitting and tells us the news: she's going to be fine. The fractures are all minor and on her arms and legs and the concussion is also not severe. But the weight hasn't lifted yet. Just as the doctor is explaining treatment and how long she'll be here my phone rings.

"Excuse me," I say and answer quickly, "Hello?" It's Lawrence and he sounds stressed.

_"I think Adam's in trouble."_ Oh no.

"Are you sure? Are you going there now?"

_"Can I meet you there?"_ I pause and glance at my brothers.

"Is it that Jigsaw victim?" one asks. I nod.

"Just go," the other says, "We'll tell Mom you stopped by."

"I'll be over as soon as I can," I tell Lawrence.

_"Okay, good. Oh, and Alexis?"_

"Yeah?"

_"Hurry." _That doesn't sound good.

.

.

I pull up next to the curb in front of the hospital and get out to wait for Alexis. I know you're probably thinking I should just go in and get Adam right now but I know it's not the smartest decision to go in without backup, especially in my condition. Hopefully my paranoia is just that and he'll be perfectly fine but I can't be sure until Alexis gets here. It takes her about ten minutes since I got here to pull in behind my car. She nearly rushes out before turning her car off, hurriedly tying her hair into a loose ponytail.

"Have I kept you waiting?" she asks, somehow out of breath. I start walking to the front door and she follows.

"Not long," I reply, "We should get to Adam as quickly as possible. What the hell?" I pause for a moment when we get inside. The place is completely empty. Not even a custodian is around. _This is weird..._

"Where is everyone?" Alexis whispers. I head over to the front desk where some security camera feeds are. They show each floor in black and white. There doesn't seem to be anything going on...

"Oh no."

"What is it?"

"Third floor." She looks and a hand flies to her mouth. A tall hooded figure has just climbed out of the ceiling and is making his way down the hall.

"He wasn't making it up..." I glare at her.

"He told you about this?" Her face flushes with embarrassment.

"I-"

"Nevermind. We've got to move." I test the elevator down the hall. It still works. We're about to get in when suddenly Alexis says,

"Wait! I have an idea!" She runs back to the front desk. What now? We don't have time! She comes back with two drawers pulled from the desk.

"Were you planning on going up there without a weapon?" she asks. I gesture to the cane silently and hit the elevator button for the third floor. She doesn't smile. I don't expect her to. The ride up is slow and torturous but we get there. Alexis darts out, stands on the drawers, and pulls a box of matches from her pocket, lighting one and holding it to a sprinkler. The sprinklers set off and she hops down again.

"What was that for?" I ask over the sound of water.

"Distraction," she replies, "And he won't be able to hear us coming." I sigh.

"You have too many thoughts, you know? Come on."

.

.

I reach for the axe, my hand shaking tremendously, when suddenly the sprinklers go off. _Adam Faulkner, you are the luckiest motherfucker in the world._ I don't have anything to break the glass with though so bracing myself I use my bare elbow. Only small bits of glass manage to really stick in it but I'm not worried about that or how much it's bleeding (_wow, it's bleeding a lot_). I grasp the axe in both hands and wait. Wait for the murderer.

"Come and get me," I growl through clenched teeth. I can't hear anything over the sprinklers but I know he's coming. He's smart, smarter than I'll ever be, but no prey is born without strong survival instincts. He says my fight sense is weak? Come and try me, old man. _Where the hell is this burst of confidence coming from?_ The sprinklers maybe? I don't know. I don't know, I just need to focus focus on fighting. I've killed someone dangerous before and I was injured worse than I am now. Thinking back on that (those memories are fucking _vivid_ now for some reason) I probably shouldn't have hit him so many times. It ripped open my shoulder to something much worse than it was. But I was in a blind panic panic like I am now. No, not blind now but still panic, _panic_. I can hear a footstep close by. Adjusting my grip on the axe handle I turn the corner and swing with all my might...and miss. He isn't as close as I thought and in the aftershock of the swing he is able to grab the axe head. Still holding onto it with a death grip, I am easily tossed into the opposite wall. I grunt in pain as my bad shoulder connects with the wall. Jigsaw tosses the weapon aside and I watch helplessly as it clatters out of reach. He goes for me and I try to run. Not enough time. He grabs my left arm and wrenches it back, making sure to squeeze and twist the bandaged area making me mewl in pain. I try to pull away but he throws me to the floor. I skid a bit on the wet linoleum and whack my head against the wall. _Shit..._I see spots. Jigsaw steps over me and kicks me none too gently in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me and pushing me back to the center of the hallway. _Where is everyone?_ I wonder, the walls spinning and my lungs aching for air, _Why hasn't anyone come to help me?_ A long sharp metal object is suddenly thrust through my bad shoulder, so deep I can feel it went through the floor. I can't hear myself screaming but my complaining lungs are telling me what it probably sounds like. Whimpering pathetically I claw at the tiles (_white tiles like a like a tiles like a bathroom!_) trying in some hopeless way to escape.

"What..." I gasp out, "What do you want from me? I played your game!"

"You failed," he says, looming over me. Rage mingles with the terror.

"_I did what I was supposed to do!_ My objective was to live, wasn't it? And I made it to six o'clock! I was alive after that! _Why didn't you let me go?_"

"You failed to locate the key, Adam. You chose to attack me instead. Then you were rescued. You didn't play by the rules. You didn't learn your lesson." I slam my let fist to the linoleum (my right arm is starting to go numb).

"Shut up! I got out! I learned my lesson, okay?" Shit, I'm crying now. "I'm a different person now! You've been watching me this whole time! You should know that!" Jigsaw shakes his head, rustling the fabric of his hood.

"These past few days I have been testing you. The test was to see if you could convince others I was not a hallucination and that you were perfectly sane." He's started pacing in front of me, telling this story like I was supposed to know all about it. "You failed this test."

"So...what? Are you gonna kill me now?"

"Yes. You are not grateful and not worthy of the life you have taken for granted." I'm practically sobbing now. I'm going to die. And there's no one here to save me. I couldn't save myself.

.

_You know how sometimes the last thing you or someone else said gets replayed a million times in your head for no reason at all? Well that's all I'd been hearing in this blackness, that horrible raspy voice of the dead man come to life saying those two condemning words: _Game over. _I lay on my back, wishing for those blinding lights and Lawrence's voice helping me through it._

_"Lawrence," I moaned pathetically, still more tears managing to leak out, "Lawrence..."_

.

"Lawrence..." I whisper, closing my eyes tightly, "Lawrence..._Lawrence!" _And I wait for the death blow.

_It never comes._

.

.

I limp along the soaking hallway as quickly as I can behind the younger, fitter Alexis, spotting the cloaked figure of Jigsaw up ahead. He's looking down at something...some_one_..._Oh, please, no..._Alexis picks up speed and with a loud grunt of exertion she throws the first drawer at Jigsaw. It glances his side, enough to hurt and catch his attention.

"Get the hell away from him!" Alexis snarls, readying the other drawer. I try to catch up but he is on her before I can reach them. She tries to hit him again as he approaches but he manages to dodge it and throw her against the wall like she was a ragdoll. She crumples to the floor, having hit her head, and Jigsaw faces me.

"Dr. Gordon. It's good to see you again."

"What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want a better existence for future generations. I want all the filth of the world to be rid of and to never taint the innocent again. I want to destroy everything evil from the planet."

"Adam is not evil!" I shout back, "Just leave him alone! We were helping him, goddammit! Are you so blinded by your false sense of justice that you can't even see the innocents anymore?"

"He is not innocent. You, who have a young daughter, should know this best of all." A sort of broken, triumphant laughter catches our attention. Alexis is sitting against the wall, her hair having fallen out of its ponytail and now hanging limply around her face, and she's holding up a cell phone.

"The police are on their way, genius," she says smugly, "You're gonna be a prison bitch for a looooong time." Jigsaw looks back at me.

"The game isn't over yet, doctor. I'll be watching." He turns and runs down the hall. I look pleadingly at Alexis who shakes her head and slowly stands.

"Let him run. He can't get far." The sprinklers finally shut off and I can hear the whimpering for the first time. I rush to Adam's prone form, being careful not to touch the metal pipe jammed into his shoulder (_oh god what happened to you?_).

"Adam? Adam, are you okay? Talk to me." He doesn't respond. He's scratching at the floor with his left hand and mumbling something I can't understand. I realize with horror what is most likely happening to him. There's only so much stress a human mind can take and I'm afraid he's taken too much in too short a time. I carefully touch his drenched hair in consolation. He doesn't react much more than a brief twitch.

"Help is on the way," I whisper to him (though he probably can't hear me; catatonics usually don't), "You'll be okay. I promise." _What a half-hearted lie, Gordon._

.

Oh, I'm sorry. I suppose you want to know what happened next. I apologize, I'm a little stressed out from last night. The police came along with a few of my colleagues. They took Adam away to be treated and I haven't been allowed to see him yet. All they've told me is he's been under a lot of stress and he can't respond to human contact at the moment. In other words it's like I said before: he's catatonic. What they won't tell me but I heard it early this morning is the screaming. The most pitiful cries I've ever heard started around five-thirty in the morning, coming from Adam's room. A few doctors had run in and sedated him but I knew exactly what was going on. It was too much for him. Adam has suffered a complete psychological breakdown. It pains me to tell you this, it really does, but there's absolutely nothing we can do about something like that. Mental wounds take a very long time to heal and they scar permanently. You have to be extremely patient and cautious around patients who have, for lack of a better term, lost their minds. As for me...I don't know if I could handle seeing him like that. I don't know how to treat a patient with his condition, nor do I think I should try. He needs time to heal and fortunately that's all I can give him right now. He's a prisoner in his own mind but he's also the warden. He needs to realize he can free himself and when he finally does...I'll be there.

_A/N: There you have it, guys. The final chapter of TOW, part one of the Savagery of Man trilogy. Plot twist, huh? I never write sad endings so I decided to go for one and coat it five times over in angst. Please tell me what you think in that wonderful box! I worked hard on this story for you wonderful readers and I am excited to begin part two: Perdition of Adam. Oh yeah, and if you didn't guess, the one who pushed Alexis' mother down the stairs was Amanda. What a bitch, amirite? XD Jigsaw told her to do it so he could get Alexis away from Adam. Legolas walks in. "A diversion." I facepalm. "Yes, thank you, Legolas, for that wonderful Bing moment. Aragorn gives a definition, you give the term. Is this fucking Jeopardy! or what?" Okay, I'm done now XDDD._


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